


All your tomorrows start here

by hyunee



Series: All your tomorrows start here [1]
Category: Infinite (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Kid Fic, M/M, Single Parents, they are both dads
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-27
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-27 09:46:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8396896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyunee/pseuds/hyunee
Summary: Woohyun has a daughter. Sunggyu has a son. That's where their similarities end.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So I was bored and ended up adding a chapter to this story. The first one (this one) is not new, I wrote it forever ago and you may have already read it. The second one will be up soon and is already written. The style can vary considerably from one chapter to another because of this, but who has the time to rewrite everything. Not me.

Woohyun gets the call on his day off, which means it is past noon and he is still sleeping. He slams his hand down on the bedside table--repeats the action once, when it lands on his rimmed glasses sitting on top of a colorful edition of Roald Dahl’s Matilda, and once again, when he knocks over the empty glass of water he put there last night. At his third attempt, the tips of his fingers brush the smooth edges of his phone and he lets out a grunt that’s both a quiet cry of victory and an informal complain to the universe at large.

He holds the phone to one side of his face as the other stays buried in the softness of his pillow. He is too sleepy and tired to conform to the norms of society just yet and Woohyun has no qualms about staying in silence for as long as the person on the other end finds convenient.

His head is killing him this morning; he decides not to talk unless he hears them address him directly.

“Mr. Nam?”

There you go.

“Fuck, what time is it?” Directly addressed or not, he still thinks he is entitled to sound like a foul-mouthed idiot.

“Mr. Nam, I’m calling from the principal’s office.”

At that, his attitude changes completely. Rolling onto his back, he opens his eyes to the ceiling and sighs. When he speaks again, his tone is softer, more serious; his voice still hoarse and thick with sleep.

“Ok, I’m listening.”

-

Half an hour later finds him stomping down an empty school corridor. The walls at his sides are lined with slightly wrinkled papers decorated with stick figures and houses of impossible colors, drawn with a skewed sense of perspective. Woohyun wonders if he is a stick man too somewhere on that wall, and he makes a mental note to look for Yerin’s drawing when he’s done with the always boring school-parent bureaucracy.

It takes him longer than it should to find the administration office--this is only his second time in the school and every door and corridor looks the same to him--and by the time he arrives, he’s already ten minutes late.

He finds Yerin sitting on one of the chairs outside the principal’s office, her little feet dangling in the air, legs still too short to reach the floor, and her hands tucked under her thighs. She doesn’t seem to notice him at first, and Woohyun takes the opportunity to examine his daughter’s appearance and make sure nothing’s broken or bleeding.

When he’s done, he heaves out a relieved sigh. Everything seems to be fine from where he’s standing; no cuts, no bleeding noses, not even a scratch. Granted, her hair looks like it’s been attacked by a rabid badger, but that is all Woohyun’s doing. Every time he tries to braid her hair she ends up crying as Woohyun tries to undo the knots and tangles he himself has created. It usually makes them late, too, and that means no time for actual brushing, just a few last seconds in the car to haphazardly smooth down the black locks with his fingers.

Honestly, he doesn’t know why he bothers; the current state of utter chaos that reigns in his daughter’s hair is a clear example of how ineffective his attempts at basic hairstyling are.

Standing right in front of her sitting figure, Woohyun crosses his arms and taps his right foot on the floor, which earns him an immediate response.

Yerin looks up at him, eyes big with an innocence he’s long learned not to trust, and says, “Hi.”

Woohyun tries to keep a straight face, to not return the adorable smile he’s getting.

“What did you do this time?”

She doesn’t answer right away, so he crouches down in front of her until their eyes are level, hoping his stern look is more effective from up close. The door to the principal’s office opens behind him before he can determine whether or not he’s getting better at this parenting thing, and he stands up immediately, patting Yerin on her shoulder to urge her to do the same.

“Mr. Nam.” A guy that looks too young to be the principal walks up to him and extends his hand. “I’m Lee Sungjong, if you don’t mind I’d like to have a word with you and Yerin.”

He’s nodding his agreement when another man steps out of the office accompanied by a little boy that’s holding a blood stained tissue to his nose. Woohyun doesn’t pay attention to him, takes Yerin’s hand in his and follows Sungjong into the office.

It’s not that he isn’t expecting the first part of the story; Yerin punched the other boy hard enough to give him a nosebleed and, understandably, Mr. Lee considers that kind of behavior to be unacceptable. However, there’s more to it, and when Woohyun learns the reason behind her daughter’s actions he decides he’s maybe buying her ice-cream after this instead of grounding her without watching her favorite Disney movie for a week.

“Look, I’ll talk to her. I know; violence is not the answer and blah blah blah. I’ll try to make her understand that, but well, he did try to kiss her,” he says, giving a small, one-shouldered shrug.

For a second, Mr. Lee looks like he’s reconsidering his life choices, mouth slightly agape and eyes blinking in disbelief. Then his face is back to its emotionless state and he says, “They are six, Mr. Nam. Minjun wasn’t trying to steal your daughter’s virtue.”

“She’s old enough to know what she wants.” The truth is Woohyun is not taking this as seriously as he seems to be taking it. He finds the situation hilarious, to be honest, but, at the same time, there’s a part of him that’s proud of the apparently strong girl Yerin is growing to be even after everything she’s been through. And, granted, maybe she needs to find other ways to stand her ground if she wants to make it to high school without being expelled, but they are getting there.

“Or does _not_ want,” he continues after a pause, just for the sake of seeing the way Mr. Lee’s expression creases with exasperation. It’s highly amusing.

“I know she’s had it more difficult than the rest, but you have to understand--”

Woohyun interrupts him midsentence. He already knows where Mr. Lee is going with that and he doesn’t think talking about the death of Yerin’s parents in front of her is going to help the situation at all.

“I’ll talk to her, I promise,” he says, making to stand up. “Can we go now?”

“I’d like to talk to both Yerin and Minjun again. Alone.”

“Are you gonna make her apologize?”

“Woohyun, your brother—”

“Yeah, I know. He would have raised her to be an honorable Girl Scout. Unfortunately,” He stands up and Yerin does the same. “My brother is not here. But, ok, do whatever you consider the best.”

Turning to his daughter, Woohyun looks down, his expression softening, and says, “Yerin-ah, stay here with Mr. Lee, ok? Listen to him well and be good. Dad is gonna wait outside.”

He bends down and kisses the top of her head, ruffling her hair before heading for the door.

-

It takes him just one quick look at Minjun’s father to regret not having put on proper clothes before coming to the school. He’s wearing the same pair of sweats he wears to bed every day (the same pair he wore this morning when he dropped Yerin at the school) and an old white baseball t-shirt with black sleeves and a small hole near the hem.

Minjun’s father, on the other hand, is wearing a dark blue suit and a pair of shiny, laced shoes; a white dress shirt underneath and a fucking _tie_. How can anyone raise a six year old and look like that? Woohyun can’t even remember the last time he wore a tie, let alone a suit, and he’s pretty positive he looks wrecked right now. Because he worked a 14 hours shift yesterday, he’s gotten only a few hours of sleep and he couldn’t be bothered to even make his hair look presentable to talk about his daughter’s violent tendencies without caffeine in his system.

The guy turns around to face him and the situation only gets worse. If there’s a deity responsible for this, they seem to take pleasure in Woohyun’s mortification, because the man is also ridiculously attractive in a very unconventional way; his face is made up of a set of not necessarily pretty features that somehow work well together and make this man look exactly like the type Woohyun didn’t know he had.

This day is the _worst_.

“So,” Woohyun starts, taking a seat in a useless attempt to cover the fact that he looks like an undergrad during finals week. “Kids, huh?”

The guy huffs a dry laugh, sits on the seat across from Woohyun.

“Your daughter punched my son. That’s not something I’m going to let slide so easily.”

“It’s just a nosebleed,” Woohyun says, trying to sound amicable, play it down. “I used to get tons when I was little, it’s not like she broke his nose.”

The other man’s frown deepens, eyebrows furrowed.

“I see who your daughter takes after,” he says.

That makes Woohyun gape in disbelief, and he asks, “What is that supposed to mean?” even though he knows exactly what it means.

The guy has somehow managed to insult both Woohyun and his daughter in a single sentence, which he has to admit is impressive, but it also makes Woohyun want to dedicate him a big FUCK YOU, capital letters and all.

He decides against it because it kind of makes him feel like the bigger man.

“Do you punch people when they do something you don’t like?” the man asks.

“Do _you_ kiss people against their will?”

That earns him a loud snort. “They are six, for god’s sake.”

“Yeah, that’s exactly my point.”

“God, this is ridiculous,” the man mutters, bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“At least we agree in something.”

That seems to put an end to the argument for now, and they stay in silence for a couple of minutes.

While they wait, Woohyun decides to let his eyes roam over the man’s body unabashedly. Probably something stupid considering this is the father of one of his daughter’s classmates and he’s most likely married. There’s also that little detail about how he seems to be a magnificent jerk, but hey, he’s just _innocently_ staring. Mostly.

Apparently he’s not as subtle as he thinks, though, and when he looks up, the man’s eyes are on him, narrowed and slightly curious, if Woohyun is not mistaken.

He quickly looks away, because at this point is safe to say subtlety is not his strongest point. To his surprise, the man’s response is not even remotely hostile.

“I’m Sunggyu,” he says, and maybe he looks like it pains him to say the words, but that is definitely progress.

“Woohyun.”   

If it wasn’t before, the silence that follows is definitely uncomfortable. Now that they have introduced each other it feels like the normal thing to do would be to exchange a few words. Woohyun is not sure, but he thinks he remembers how socializing works, from when he had a life and stuff. Still, he finds it hard to find the right words to open with.

Maybe they could talk about their children, he thinks. He’s always up for a long chat about how amazing Yerin is.

Dammit, he’s one of those parents, isn’t he? When did that happen?

A grunt coming from Sunggyu’s general vicinity makes him look up; he’s rubbing his face tiredly, resting his head on the wall behind him.

“Long day?” Woohyun asks.

“Yeah, and thanks to your daughter it just got worse.” So much for _progress_.

Woohyun tries not to sneer, but it’s hard to play nice when he seems to be the only one trying with some sort of consistency.

“I could say the same thing about your son,” he says in the end. There’s no real heat behind his words, though, he’s not going to blame a six-year-old just because he’s tired and sleepy and his father is insufferable.  

Leaning back, Woohyun rests his elbows on the arms of the chair, spreads his legs to get more comfortable and fixes his eyes on Sunggyu’s, waiting for an answer that comes almost immediately.

“You look like you literally fell from your bed and into this office,” Sunggyu says as he undoes the buttons of his jacket. Unhurriedly, as if he had all the time in the world, he places the black briefcase he was carrying on the floor next to him and leans back on his chair, blinks at Woohyun a couple of times and then adds, “I doubt your day is remotely similar to mine.”

“I work too, you know?”

“You do?” The tone Sunggyu uses makes that simple question sound extremely insulting—the guy has a gift--and the next words that come out of his mouth have Woohyun debating whether he should resolve this situation as Yerin did with Minjun or simply laugh it off. Sunggyu looks him up and down. “Where do you even work? At Starbucks?”

That’s all Woohyun can do not to laugh out loud, because seriously, is this guy for real?

“Fucking snob,” he says, shaking his head and smiling incredulously. “No, not at Strarbucks. I make great coffee, though, if that counts.” He pauses, amused, then asks, “What is wrong with working at Starbucks anyway?”

Sunggyu doesn’t answer. He does look away, however, refusing to look Woohyun in the eye. Woohyun decides to take that as a sign of embarrassment for being a total dick. It makes him feel considerably better about his clothing choices this morning.

“I work as a paramedic, actually,” Woohyun says when he decides Sunggyu’s suffered enough. “And well, maybe I don’t wear expensive suits and sit in a fancy office all day long --I can’t imagine how exhausting that must be— but, you know, I do work long shifts, usually in the back of a moving ambulance, so I think I’m allowed to consider this a shitty day even if I’ve only been awake for an hour.”

When Sunggyu looks up, he seems apologetic, but Woohyun is not surprised in the slightest when his expression quickly turns stubborn and petulant.

“I’m not going to apologize. You have to admit you do look homeless.”

For some reason, Woohyun finds himself smiling at that. He didn’t know someone could repel him and attract him so much at the same time, it’s fascinating.

“A homeless man that works at Starbucks, apparently.”

What he certainly doesn’t expect is Sunggyu to return the smile. A twitch of lips that, if small, turns the other man’s eyes into adorable crescents, and makes Sunggyu look ten years younger.

“No apologies, then. Good,” Woohyun says, nodding as if to himself. “I’ll make sure Yerin doesn’t apologize, either.”

“You’re good at parenting,” Sunggyu retorts, flat and sarcastic, and Woohyun chuckles.

“I’m still relatively new at it, man, give me a break,” Woohyun says.

Their words still have a surly undertone, but the original tension has dissipated significantly. By now, Woohyun is practically sprawled on his chair, body slightly askew and legs outstretched, and Sunggyu—well, Sunggyu doesn’t look murderous.

“I think six years is enough time to get the drift of it.”

“Yeah, it is,” he agrees. What he doesn’t say is that Yerin’s only been living with him for a little less than a year. He’s not going to tell Sunggyu his life story. “But I guess we are not all as perfect as you are.”

Surprisingly, Sunggyu laughs at that. A hearty laugh that catches Woohyun off guard, disarms him a little for how out of character it seems from what he’s seen of Sunggyu so far.

“Do I look like the perfect parent to you?” The question seems rhetorical, but Woohyun is not going to turn down an open invitation to stare.

Sunggyu, with his expensive suit and neatly combed hair, looks as exhausted as Woohyun feels--the kind of exhaustion that a good night of sleep can’t heal--but that doesn’t prove anything.

“You look like you have your shit together,” he concludes after his examination. “Everything under control.”

The smile he gets is only partly self-satisfied.

“Well, I don’t. I’m a single parent. Raising a boy requires so much energy-- _time_ I don’t have. You have no idea.”

Woohyun snorts, pretends like he’s not mentally pumping a fist in the air because Sunggyu is a _single parent_.

“ _You_ have no idea. In the parenthood lotto you hit the jackpot, dude. Boys are easy; we are simple. Girls are complicated and ask for weird stuff like fishtail braids at 7 in the morning. Which is something I didn’t even know existed until last week, by the way,” he says, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

“FYI, Youtube tutorials aren’t as helpful as they claim to be,” Woohyun continues. “And, by the way, you can’t pull the single parent card either, because I—”

At that moment the door to the principal’s office opens, effectively cutting him off.

Mr. Lee beckons them closer with a wave of his hand, so he stands up and walks up to him, Sunggyu following close behind. After that, Yerin comes trotting to him, wraps his arms around his hips and presses her face to his side.

“Hey, princess,” Woohyun whispers, moving a hand to rest in the middle of her back, between her shoulder blades. He rubs her back a couple of times, then, turning to Mr. Lee, he says, “So.”

“So you can go home,” Sungjong says, looking alternatively at him and Sunggyu.

“That’s it?”

“Yes.” And with that Mr. Lee turns around and disappears into his office.

Sunggyu lets out an incredulous laugh, and Woohyun can’t blame him, really, because he can’t believe he’s wasted two hours of sleep for this.

“I can’t believe I’ve wasted two hours of work for this,” Sunggyu says, because their priorities are clearly different.

“What do you do that’s so important anyway?”

“I’m a lawyer.”

“Oh.” Woohyun looks at him wide-eyed. “Do I need a lawyer? You’re not gonna press charges against my six year old daughter, aren’t you?” he jokes.

“I doubt my son would let me do that,” says Sunggyu, jerking his chin forward.

Following the movement, Woohyun turns around, only to find Yerin, who somehow disentangled herself and left his side without him noticing, engaged in a seemingly enthralling conversation with Minjun. The little boy nods avidly at everything she says, like the dry smudge of blood on his cheek wasn’t her fault, and Woohyun can’t help but chuckle.

“I wouldn’t blame him; she’s a charmer,” he says, patting Sunggyu’s back and smirking. “She does take after her father after all.”

That makes Sunggyu roll his eyes so hard it must hurt.

“I pity her if that’s true.”

Woohyun looks at Sunggyu curiously, crosses his arms and brings one finger to his mouth, trying to appear as if in deep thought.

“Tell me, Sunggyu, do you take lessons in being obnoxious and patronizing or does it come naturally?”

Sunggyu scoffs. “Whatever it is it obviously doesn’t work, since you’re still here, _talking_.”

“Well, I do love a challenge,” Woohyun says and Sunggyu shakes his head. But he’s smiling, too, so Woohyun is going to take it as a win (progress!).

“It’s been… interesting meeting you, Woohyun.”

“Yeah.”

With a light nod, Woohyun turns around and walks towards his daughter.

“Hey beautiful,” he calls. “Say goodbye to Minjun and his father.”

Yerin waves her little hand at Minjun, who quickly returns the gesture and runs to his father.

“Did you apologize to him?” Woohyun asks. She nods. “Did he forgive you?”

“Of course he did,” she says, pushing her hair off her face with both hands. “He’s my BFF, dad.”

“He’s your BF--,” Letting out an amused chuckle Woohyun shakes his head. “Since when?”

Yerin presses one short finger to her chin, pouts a little.

“Last week, I think.”

“Oh, wow, you guys are serious, aren’t you?”

She makes a face at him like he’s suddenly grown a second head.

“Dad, you’re weird.”

Laughing to himself, Woohyun crouches down and takes Yerin hands in his as he debates with himself whether he should give her the talk now or wait until they get home. Because he may always take Yerin’s side in front of others, but he’s not as irresponsible as he likes to appear. Most of the time, he is just another victim to his daughter’s charms.

His stomach rumbles before he can make up his mind, so in the end he settles for going for lunch first, and talk to her later. Or maybe do both at the same time.

“Are you hungry?”

“Can I have pancakes?”

“No, we are having lunch.” Her lips curl into a pout, and she looks so sad and cute it’s unfair. Woohyun can’t really say no to that, so he comes up with a healthier alternative. “But you can ask Minjun to come with us, if you want.”

Yerin beams and nods effusively.

-

There are no ulterior motives behind that proposition. The fact that Sunggyu happens to be Minjun’s father is just a happy coincidence. 

Alright, maybe he’s taking advantage of the situation. Indirectly using his daughter to get the closest thing to a date Woohyun’s had in a year may not be the most honorable thing to do, but last time he checked that didn’t constitute a crime, and Sunggyu can still say no.

He doesn’t, though.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "If these people take Halloween this seriously, Woohyun tells himself, surely he can’t be the only adult at this party looking like an idiot."
> 
> To be honest, nothing really happens in this chapter lol

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was supposed to be up on Halloween but I'm gonna be busy tomorrow and you're getting it a few hours sooner. Like I said, the writing style may vary a bit from now on... or maybe not, I'm not sure.
> 
> Anyway, there are many incongruities in this whole series and this chapter in particular, not very korean things that you guys need to promise me you'll ignore for the sake of fanfiction.

The spooky melody coming from the speakers hidden somewhere in the front yard can be heard from a street away, like an ominous soundtrack to the dreadful afternoon that will follow. Several carved pumpkins line up the sides of the steps up to the porch of the house. There’s a skeleton hanging from the main door. Even in its state, trapped in between the fake sticky cobwebs that cover the surface of the door, the plastic jumble of bones seems to be mocking Woohyun. And no one else.

He wasn’t expecting this great display of resources. But if these people take Halloween this seriously, he tells himself, surely he can’t be the only adult at this party looking like an idiot.

Still, when the doorbell rings its last note, he can’t help but feel ridiculous. He shifts uncomfortably, changes his weight for one foot to the other on the doormat and squeezes Yerin’s little hand tight. It serves as a reminder of why he’s doing this. Why he does everything he does these days. Self-consciousness and self-preservation have no room when you’re raising a six-year-old girl way too stubborn and cute for her own good and her father’s.

Looking for comfort, he glances down at Yerin and is met with a pair of shiny eyes and a radiant smile that warms up his heart and makes it all worth it. He realizes wearing a silly puppy costume is nothing compared to what he’d be willing to do to make her happy, distantly wondering when it was that his own happiness and interests became secondary.

He’s never been a selfless person. Grew up being the willful child, always working hard to differentiate himself from the exemplary son that had always been his bother. It had all remained a constant until well into his 20s, and yet here he is, ready to sacrifice everything for this tiny human who can’t even reach the cupboards or make her own cereal in the morning without spilling the milk all over the counter, but has somehow managed to become the whole purpose of his existence.

“Woohyun!” a high pitched voice shakes him out of his thoughts and the pang of embarrassment is instantly back, a jar of cold water pouring over him. Someone’s mom--whoever invited him and Yerin to this party--stares at him unabashedly, like he’s a piece of eye candy. “Oh my god, you look adorable.”

She’s not even talking about Yerin.

Apparently he’s a sensation among the female, and sometimes male, population that gather outside the school the days he’s out of work in time to pick up his daughter. He has been trying to take on his role as a father more seriously and has already lost count of the amount of favors he owes his colleagues for shifts that have been moved around to make his life easier. The furtive glances and sometimes indecent comments of the other parents soon became evident, but he’s always ignored them. He’s aware of what it all looks like: a guy his age, much younger than almost everyone there, raising a little girl on his own when he’s not exactly hard to look at. He’s not stupid. He knows what women are after.

“Uh, thanks. I was against it but how can you say no to that face, huh?” he says, giving Yerin a knowing smile. “I’m sorry if we are late, we couldn’t find her white sneakers.”

“Don’t worry, you’re right on time. Come on in.” The woman steps aside and then closes the door behind them. “The kids are in the living room, honey,” she says to Yerin. “They are watching The Wizard of Oz, if you want to join.”

Yerin pulls at his hand to catch Woohyun’s attention and the man answers the question before it’s asked.

“Go ahead. Have fun.”

-

To Woohyun’s dismay, decoration seems to be the only aspect of Halloween these people take seriously, and Woohyun finds himself in the middle of the kitchen with floppy dog ears, a furry jumpsuit on and a gross-looking cocktail in one hand that’s supposed to simulate blood while the other parents are wearing dresses and perfectly ironed button-down shirts. He feels like he’d be more comfortable with the group of six-year-olds watching Dorothy fly into a magical land riding a tornado inside a farmhouse than here, and he hopes that these people have something stronger than the alcohol free liquid in his glass, because he is in desperate need of something that helps him forget that he let his daughter draw him a puppy nose with a permanent black marker.

After talking about what he does for a living with a couple of people, the owner of the house comes back into the kitchen with Sunggyu in tow. It’s been slightly disappointing not finding the young man there when he came, Woohyun admits. Even though Sunggyu has a tendency of being a condescending jerk in his presence, the masochist side of Woohyun seems to legitimately enjoy his company. He’s also the closest person to him in age in the room, which may be silly, but the fact does make him feel more comfortable around Sunggyu than he is with the rest of the parents.

He’s not sure exactly how old Sunggyu is, but he can’t be older than thirty. Sometimes, however, he makes a face or does something that makes him look ten years younger, and Woohyun questions his own ability to tell. He’s come to the conclusion that Sunggyu’s choice in clothing doesn’t help the matter either, but he’s sure it’s part of the reason why Sunggyu wears what he wears. His stuck-up attitude doesn’t go well with a casual attire.

Today, the man is sporting a light gray button-down made out of some sort of thick fabric and a pair of unnecessarily tight jeans. It is definitely a nice chance from the expensive suits Woohyun’s accustomed to see him in. A more relaxed look that favors his somewhat ageless features. The black pants compliment the shape and length of his legs and the shirt hangs nicely on what seems a lean but solid frame.

There’s nearly a slight sense of disarray when compared with his usual pristine state. His dark brown hair is a little ruffled on the top of the head, Woohyun notices, and his cheeks are sprinkled with a color two shades darker than the rosy of his lips, probably from the uncharacteristically cold weather they’ve been having all week. There are dark circles under his eyes, too, and a pinch between his eyebrows that doesn’t leave even when he smiles to shake a few hands. Regardless, he still looks like a walking wet dream, if you ask Woohyun, which only exacerbates the whole ears and tail thing he has going on.

Sunggyu, when he approaches him, opens with a snort.

“Hello to you, too,” Woohyun says before finishing off what’s left of his drink.

“What in the world are you wearing?”

“I don’t know; what does it seem like I’m wearing?”

Resigned to work with what he has, Woohyun pulls at the tail of his furry costume and throws a look down over his shoulder as though he’s looking for something.

In return, Sunggyu shakes his head and lets a small smile grace his lips, slightly curving the shape of his eyes. The frown is almost gone by now. “You are going to spoil that kid rotten.”

“Wrong verb tense,” Woohyun says, letting go of his tail to grab a snack from the table. “Also I’ve been told I look cute.”

Chancing a quick look around, Sunggyu states matter-of-factly, “You could be wearing a garbage bag and they’d still think you look cute.”

Woohyun feigns ignorance, just to see the way Sunggyu’s forehead creases once again, this time in exasperation. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

“They are going to be talking about this for days.”

“What about you?” A straight eyebrow arches in question, and Woohyun elaborates, “Will you join the discussion? Do you think I look cute?”

“I think you look stupid,” Sunggyu deadpans.

“Ouch.” Woohyun brings a hand to his chest. “You hurt me.”

A moment of silence passes by before Sunggyu is sighing, as though he’s lost an internal battle with himself.

“I also think she’s lucky to have you. Your daughter. But forget I ever said this, I’ll deny everything when inquired.”

“Did you just say something nice about me?” asks Woohyun, playful grin on his lips.

“I have no recollection of it.”

Woohyun nods, still smiling to himself.

“Want a drink?”

“Yeah. What are you drinking?”

“I have no idea but it’s gross. Sort of tastes like a can of Redbull you left forgotten under the sun. But I’m the designated driver; Yerin wanted to go wild tonight,” Woohyun says, taking one of the glasses of punch that line the table and smelling it. He’s aware of Sunggyu’s eyes on him, of the relaxed curve of his lips. “If you want, this has alcohol in it.”

He offers Sunggyu the drink and waits for him to take it.

“How else am I supposed to endure any of this?”

-

Shoulder against the doorframe to the living room, Woohyun watches as Yerin tries to make Minjun, who’s dressed as Superman, fly with her mind. She’s wearing a baby pink dress, an oversized navy blue hoodie, a pair of white tube socks and a blonde wig that is already as messy as her own unruly hair usually is.

“Isn’t she too young for Stranger Things?” Sunggyu’s says behind him and Woohyun chuckles.

“I fell asleep on the couch while watching Netflix.”

“That nosebleed is a nice touch. Looks very legit,” Sunggyu adds, leaning against the other side of the doorframe and crossing his arms over his chest. “And is a welcome change when the blood’s fake and coming out of your daughter’s nose.”

Woohyun shrugs. “I’ve got practice from last Halloween. She somehow ended up on YouTube watching Michael Jackson’s Thriller. _That_ was a shitload of work and she ended up crying because this other kid was scared of her. This time I’m just happy she didn’t make me shave her head.”

Turning to look at him, Sunggyu makes a face at him in disapproval. “Who dresses up their five-year-old as a zombie?”

“Someone who has no idea what he’s doing but hates to see his daughter cry, probably.”

Seeming ready to retort, possibly something insulting, Sunggyu opts for pausing instead. His mouth opens and closes a couple of times, but in the end it just sort of stays there, slack and wet and annoyingly inviting. When Woohyun gathers the will to look away, he notices Minjun standing in front of his father, a hand grabbing the upper part of Sunggyu’s front pocket and pulling at it.

His cape is wrapped around his neck and his hair is a mess, the gel that was previously keeping it all together barely preserving its holding effect.

“Dad, we can go now.”

Sunggyu straights up and glances down at the watch on his wrist.

“It’s still early. You want to go home?”

As if on cue, Yerin appears behind the little boy and answers for him, raising her hands in the air.

“We want to go trick or treating!” she says. Though her enthusiasm dies out quickly, giving way to a sad pout. “This party is boring.”

“Oh right,” Woohyun puts in. An apologetic grin forms on his face meant to placate Sunggyu’s impending glare. “I may have promised her we would do that.”

“Do you ever say no to her?”

“Irreversible body modifications, that is where I draw the line.”

That earns him a roll of eyes. “You’re the one dressed as a giant puppy, you should be opposed to going out in that thing.”

“What do you mean? This costume is awesome.” Woohyun’s eyes find Minjun’s. “Isn’t this costume awesome, Minjun?”

The boy nods his reply and adds, “Why aren’t you wearing a costume, daddy?”

“Great. So now you’re turning my own son against me.”

“Because he’s not a cool dad like I am,” Woohyun says, completely ignoring Sunggyu as he stays focused on the little version of Superman staring at him with eyes too wide, like a cartoon. “Sorry buddy, life can be tough.”

“Shut up, please,” Sunggyu says.

“It’s never too early to learn some life lessons.”

Sunggyu doesn’t say anything else for a while, firmly rooted in his stubbornness as three pairs of eyes beg him to say yes. Yerin has glued herself to Woohyun’s side, and even Minjun is now holding his hand as though to be clear of where he stands in this discussion.

“This is your chance to be cool, Sunggyu.”

“I hate you,” Sunggyu finally says, heading for the door with firm steps. When he notices no one is following, he adds, “Let’s _go_.”

Instead of following right away, Woohyun takes a moment to celebrate his victory by high fiving the couple of ecstatic children currently intoning a very sharp cry of excitement.

-

They visit a few houses on that same street. The kids walk several steps ahead of them and only stop on the ones where the decorations are scary enough for them to giggle and give little jumps in exhilaration. The neighborhood is quiet and well-kept, with green areas made out of tall trees and beds of flowers. It’s the kind of place he used to imagine himself living in when he pictured his life as a family man in the past, before Yerin came in the picture. Now, however, the prospect of moving to a place like this seems at the very least far-fetched. He never expected to have to raise a child on his own, let alone at 25. He’s nowhere near economically stable enough to afford any of these houses, and even if he was, he sees no point in living in a place that big when it’s just the two of them.

Out of the corner of his eye, he catches sight of Sunggyu walking next to him. He wonders what his place looks like, though it isn’t too hard to imagine. Perhaps a fancy apartment in one of the richest districts, so big Minjun can comfortably play soccer in their living room. Not that Sunggyu would allow that.

The sound of Sunggyu clearing his throat makes Woohyun look at him fully.

“Don’t you,” the man trails off, as though looking for the right way to phrase his question. “Don’t you have someone to help you?”

“Huh?”

“Yerin.”

Woohyun’s eyes land on his daughter at the mention of her name. They never leave her even though his mind is already somewhere else entirely. It travels back to that night and he finds himself gulping down the sudden knot in his throat.

“Well, my parents do what they can,” he says at length. “But most of the time it’s just Yerin and me.”

“Minjun’s mother is not around either.”

Woohyun doesn’t correct Sunggyu’s assumption and rushes to ask, “Any parents to help you out?”

“Just my mom. And well, there’s also Minjun’s nanny. I sometimes work extra hours and my mom is getting old so.”

“I tried the nanny thing once, too. But the moment I left our apartment Yerin started to bawl her eyes out, so I never tried again.”

“If you ever need someone to look after her, she can stay with us. I mean, she seems to get along really well with Minjun and I’ll be there to make sure his lips don’t go anywhere near her. For his sake, of course.”

Woohyun’s eyes go wide, half in mock, half in real surprise.

“This is the second time you are nice to me today, Sunggyu,” he says. “And to think you didn’t even thank me for buying you lunch the day we met. Look how far we’ve gotten.”

Sunggyu rolls his eyes. “I don’t even know why I bother.”

“I’m kidding,” Woohyun says, placing a hand on the other man’s shoulder and pretending he doesn’t notice the way Sunggyu’s muscles immediately tense up. “Right back at you, man. Minjun is always welcome at our home.”

“Thanks for the offer, but it won’t be necessary.”

Woohyun can’t help but snort. He takes his hand off Sunggyu shoulder. The guy is unbelievable.

“You don’t trust me,” he says, incredulity ringing in his voice. “What do you think I’m gonna do? Set your child on fire?”

“I’m not saying I don’t trust you, I’m just not sure you can take care of two small kids at the same time. It’s all.”

“So you don’t trust me.”

“I—”

“That’s ok,” Woohyun says, feigning indifference when the truth is it upsets him greatly. It’s not the first time someone questions his ability to take care of another human being and it always plagues his mind with insecurities, makes him wonder if he’s being the parent Yerin needs him to be. “It’s not like I’m dying to spend my free time with those two weirdos.”

Woohyun’s attention is back to where Minjun and Yurin are making faces at each other a meter away, sticking their tongues out and pulling at their own ears. He hears Sunggyu laugh softly through his nose. Although it doesn’t make him feel any better about himself, it does bring a sense of relief at the fact that Sunggyu hasn’t noticed he’s hit a soft spot.

“Fair enough,” Sunggyu says and then they both watch Yerin skip in their direction.

“Dad, I need to pee,” she says when she reaches them.

-

By the time they make it back to the park where Sunggyu and Minjun are waiting for them, Yurin is already dozing off in Woohyun’s arms, her head resting comfortably on his right shoulder.

Woohyun spots Sunggyu and his son on a bench near the swings. The boy is sitting on Sunggyu’s lap, going through his colorful plastic bag full of candy and taking out pieces to show them to his father, only to throw them back in. The expression on Sunggyu’s face is one Woohyun’s never seen before. He appears to be completely enthralled by what his son is telling him, nodding and smiling and making the boy laugh every time he opens his mouth to add to their conversation.

It feels like watching a stranger, so different from the person Woohyun thought Sunggyu was. Though he is not sure what he expected. Of course Sunggyu would behave differently around his child, it’s just that Woohyun has been incapable of picturing it until now, that he has the scene unfolding before his eyes. For such an incongruity, it’s fascinating how all of a sudden being a loving father appears to be second nature to Sunggyu. He seems comfortable, unguarded, and just happy, and when he leans in and kisses the side of his son’s head and lingers, eyes closed and all, Woohyun dreads his stupid costume for not having pockets. He’d take a picture and show it to Sunggyu as though to say “embrace it. You’re in as deep as the rest of us”.

“This one is done for the day,” Woohyun says patting Yerin’s back and feeling almost guilty for bursting in on such a tender scene.

Blinking a couple of times, Sunggyu glances up at him.

“Yeah, we should go.”

“I can give you guys a lift if you want. My car is not far.”

“That’s ok. We’ll grab a cab.”

Woohyun huffs out a laugh. “Come on, man. I’m a great driver.”

“I really wish I could take you seriously.”

Woohyun’s eyes follow Sunggyu’s gaze to the pair of long furry ears hanging limply at each side of this head. With a shift movement, he slides the hoodie off his head, not sure as to why it was still on in the first place.

“Do I need to remind you what I do for a living?”

“Only if you’re suddenly a professional driver.”

“I’m that, as well as many other things.”

As they talk, they start to walk in the direction of the car, and before they know it they are securing the kids in the back seats and driving to Sunggyu’s home.

“I thought you rode in the back of the ambulance.”

“Sometimes. Sometimes I don’t. Someone’s got to drive that thing places, you know.”

 

The ride is mostly quiet, so much that Woohyun catches Sunggyu fighting the invisible pull that pushes his head forward a couple of times before he finally drifts into a fragile sleep Woohyun is careful not to disturb. The man seems in urgent need of some rest, and though Woohyun feels tired himself, he takes a slower route, giving Sunggyu ten more minutes of sleep.

As expected, Sunggyu’s apartment is in a fancy neighborhood in the business district. The building is a skyscraper with mirror windows, so tall the darkness that’s covered the sky almost hides the top of it.

Woohyun stops the car by the curve, right in front of the apartment complex. He turns the engine off and faces the sleeping man next to him.

Sunggyu’s mouth is slightly open and his features relaxed. With no sounds to muffle it, Woohyun can hear the steady rhythm of his breathing, heavy but soft, not quite like snoring. For someone who has been so reluctant to get in his car, Sunggyu must feel really safe to be sleeping so soundly. Perhaps it’s for that that Woohyun allows himself to study the man more closely.

The light of a lonely lamppost filters through the window Sunggyu’s head is resting against and lands on his left cheek, turning the lightly tanned skin into a velvety dark yellow. It takes all of Woohyun’s efforts not to let his eyes linger on the pair of jutted out lips softened by shadows. He focuses on their surroundings instead; on the eerie state of utter silence the car has fallen into. It’s like time has stopped just so that he can admire what he wouldn’t be able to with the Earth spinning. It almost feels artificial, and when Woohyun leans over to place a hand on Sunggyu’s shoulder, he suddenly becomes too aware of the physical aspect of his own body. He can’t remember the last time he’s touched someone just for the sake of it, in seek of human contact and not just because it’s his job. He lets his hand slide down a limp arm, unresponsive to the touch, relishing the shapely feel of it until he closes his fingers at the base of Sunggyu’s bicep and squeezes.

“Sunggyu,” he whispers, more as a means to snap out of it himself than to wake Sunggyu up. “We are here.”

The response is not immediate. First, Sunggyu turns his face to him, but his eyes remain closed, the back of his head still resting against the window. Then, as though in steps, he opens his eyes, closes his mouth, opens it again and just pauses. He stares at Woohyun through his dark eyelashes. Perhaps he’s waiting for him to talk but Woohyun has nothing to say, his words lost in the moment like himself.

Sunggyu sits up, and Woohyun’s hand slides off his arm. He feels himself flush a little for not having noticed it was still there and clears his throat.

“Thanks for the lift home,” Sunggyu says, his voice husky with sleep. Giving a quick look at his now sleeping son over his shoulder, he rubs a finger into his eye. “Minjun never sleeps in the car. He’s a surprisingly light sleeper for a child.”

“I told you I was a good driver,” Woohyun says with a smile, finally out of his momentary stupor.

“I can’t believe I fell asleep.”

For a moment Sunggyu seems annoyed with himself, scowling at the windshield as though it’s personally offended him. When he turns back at Woohyun, however, his expression is neutral. He holds a finger in front of his face, signaling for him to wait.

“Here.” Lifting his body off the seat, Sunggyu takes out a small rectangular card out of his back pocket and hands it to Woohyun. “That’s my contact information. The offer still stands; if you ever need someone to look after Yerin, give me a call.”

The card has a minimalist but elegant design. Sunggyu’s name, personal number and email are written in a simple font in the middle.

“Thanks,” Woohyun says, throwing it onto the dashboard of his car. “Can I have another one?”

Unsure and with apparent reluctance, Sunggyu reaches into his pocket and hands him a new one. Woohyun takes the marker he keeps in the hole where the radio used to be, uses his teeth to uncap it. Flipping the card around, he scrawls his personal info on it, address included.

“There you go.”

“Uh, thanks?” Sunggyu says, taking the ruined card in his hand and looking at it with distaste. “You know these are really expensive, right?”

“Get out of my car, Sunggyu.”

Not without first giving him a glare for good measure, Sunggyu opens the door and steps out of the vehicle. Woohyun enjoys the view of the man’s backside as he rushes inside the building with his son in his arms, but looks away, shaking his head, when he remembers his daughter is sleeping in the backseat.

 


End file.
